Harry Potter and the Phoenix's Flame
by SnuzzieMagic
Summary: When good and evil were beginning to be introduced to this world four tiny amulets of great power were made. When Salaazar Slytheirin, broke away for greed and ambition, the amulets were used for light. But what if years later the light was used for Evil?
1. The Amulets

(A/N; Note that the quote- There is no good and evil, only power and those too weak to seek it' - is JKR's, and not mine...though I used it)

Disclaimer: I own only the plot. I do not own the characters, their names, their relationships, some of the background information, or anything else that is in the Harry Potter books that appears very familiar in here. I have just used J.K. Rowling's genius as a basis for the storyline; which is the only thing here that I crafted.

The Amulets

It was a clear, dark night. Not a thing was stirring, and not a sound was to be heard. A bird soared over a huge castle. How odd, it thought. Not a light was to be seen. It was as if the night itself had wrapped around the great castle and suffocated the living out of its land. As the bird got closer to completely passing the castle, a light caught its eyes. It was the only light around for miles and it was merely a very faint twinkle. The bird was curious to investigate, but it could feel a sense of apprehension all throughout the air. It was a feeling that something very unpleasant was going to happen. Involuntarily shuddering, the bird put on a spurt of speed and left the castle behind entirely.

The faint light was coming from a roaring fire within a great scarlet room that was tucked inside the castle. Across the fireplace in the room, there was a huge wooden desk with a strange crest engraved on it. Behind the desk an old man of great stature was sitting and staring into the fire. His hair was long and drawn back into a loose ponytail and, although it was turning white, hinted of a great golden color. He wore a scarlet and golden robe that stretched across his great chest, which was still very muscular even in his old age. The old man sat, his eyes glazed over in thought, and fiddled with something in his hands. Something that was on a chain and glittered in the semi-darkness. Something that was small in size, but great in power.

It was the late 1040's and the old man sitting behind the desk was none other than Godric Gryffindor, and the castle was none other than Hogwarts. It had been some time, a very long time even, since Salazaar Slytherin had left Hogwarts in a great feud with the others. And now, in his old age, it was bothering Gryffindor more than ever before.

Gryffindor sighed and looked down at the tiny glimmer in his hands. It was a small amulet, no bigger than a walnut, in the shape of a great diamond. It felt as smooth as a pearl as it rested against his palm and it glittered wildly in the darkness. As Gryffindor held the amulet up to the firelight, it seemed as if it was snowing small scarlet and golden sparkles inside the room. He sighed and put it down. Suddenly he felt a rustling on his shoulder and looked up to see a beautiful scarlet bird.

The bird was as red as blood and had a very tall, regal posture. It's beak was sharp and claws were rough and worn out. It's overall beauty held a musty power, which would hold you in awe. However, it was the eyes that really caught your attention. The eyes were as blue as the ocean, black as the midnight sky, and as bright as the stars. The colors made them stunning to look within, yet that was not what was so enrapturing about them. What was breathtaking about the eyes was the greatness that flickered inside. The flicker was like a blazing fire that refused to be diminished. If you held that flicker in your gaze long enough, you knew that all of your secrets would be revealed. Nothing would be yours to say anymore. Your identity would be taken and stored into their huge vessels of wisdom and knowledge and you would simply be lost, staring into the depth of those eyes.

The bird was a phoenix; a great creature of power and knowledge. Gryffindor was not surprised to see her at all.

"Hello Fawkes. I see you're back," Gryffindor smiled gently, stroking the great creature's soft feathers. "Did you retrieve the amulets from Helga and Rowena?"

Two small crystals, almost identical to Gryffindor's own, were dropped into his lap in response. He stood up and examined them, then carefully laid them on his desk. He remembered the day when they first received the amulets.

.....

They were young then, the four- Godric Gryffindor, Salaazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw. They had all gathered together, as they usually did in the summer, and they were thinking of projects that they could do to get their minds off of the terrible witch-hunts that had been taking place. Witch-hunts were of no harm to

witches and wizards, of course, but they were very stressful and quite tiring. That is when Gryffindor and Slytherin announced an idea they had been toying with for a few months. They wanted to build a school. A school that taught magically gifted children the ways of magic. Helga and Rowena were thrilled with the idea, thinking it to be splendid. It would take a long time and a lot of hard work, but they all decided to devote their energies to it.

The four used all of their powers, strengths, and contacts to build a castle of enormous splendor. It took years of determination, hard work, and organization, but when Slytherin and Gryffindor finally lifted the great crest onto the side of the main tower and when Helga and Rowena put the last charm on, the immense castle was something remarkable to look at. It was vast and the very walls emanated of power and a great future. It was a castle that was made through the friendship of four and the dream to teach young witches and wizards their own heritage and power. It was a castle to which the four decided to give a name that would command respect, dignity, and security in the future; _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

A year after the building was complete, the four had together a complete curriculum, staff, and list of attending children. The four founders were very excited and realized how much they had grown together. It was then that Salaazar Slytherin, who was especially good with combining charms and transfiguration, went and made four tiny crystal amulets. Each one had two colors in them; blue and bronze, scarlet and gold, yellow and black, and green and silver. Each of the four took an amulet and said that these were the sign of their friendship. These amulets would protect each of them and as their knowledge and power grew, so the amulets' powers would too.

.....

Now, Gryffindor looked sadly at the three amulets on his desk. He slowly got up and walked to a huge picture of a fair lady with beautiful golden curls spilling all over her shoulders. He stood still for a few minutes, looking at the picture.

"Julia..." he whispered softly, as he touched the picture of his wife, long gone. He briskly wiped away a few tears that had come and took his wand out. He tapped the picture of his wife and quietly said an incantation:

"Moncachecher."

The picture swung forward slowly, revealing am undersized vault behind it. Gryffindor reached inside and pulled out a small, soft package. It was wrapped in a soft, white cloth and was dusty, as though it hadn't seen any light for quite a while.

Gryffindor went back to his desk and opened the package. Inside was the fourth amulet, sparkling in the darkness, wrapped in a smoky green and silver color. He laid it with the other three and stood for a moment, looking at them.

"After all we had been through, Salaazar,' Gryffindor said softly, 'You still left us. And you forgot your amulet. The one thing that held us all together. But now we're all scattered. Rowena is in the Ministry, Helga in another school. They couldn't bear to see you and me at each other's throats, and they left. Now...only I remain here. At the place we started together, and ended apart.'

'All over a stupid argument. Why should it matter what kind of blood a person has? If they have talent, it should be enough! ...but it wasn't enough for you. Now, these amulets are the only sign that we were ever friends. And you were the one...the one that gave them to us." Gryffindor's voice broke, and he picked up the amulets before looking up at Fawkes.

"You know, even now, as hatred courses through my veins, I still feel remorse that I didn't try and talk to him. But talking never worked with Salaazar. Never...' He sighed and took one last look at the amulets.

'You know what I must do, Fawkes. It's the only way to make sure that no one will ever throw the world into darkness. I just cannot believe that Salazaar was the one who started to. He will have an heir and so will I. And you know as well as I do that as soon as they discover each other, it will cause dangerous conflict. It will be the continuation of an old battle, you might say. I just hope that it will be the concluding battle,' Gryffindor looked weary, 'And, sadly, if Salaazar's blood is in his heir, you can be sure that it will not be he that is in danger. This is all my fault. This burden should have never fallen to the innocent. Yet, against all hopes, it has. Therefore, I have a duty. I must protect the future. I must make sure that one day, my heir will be alive to finish my battle."

Gryffindor slowly backed away from Fawkes, a glint of determination in his eyes. He held the four amulets together and threw them at Fawkes, as she engulfed herself in fire, and shouted,

"Light will prevail! Lumos Abent Blanchet! Evil shall fall!"

The room was filled with a blinding light of many colors, as the amulets were surrounded by the phoenix's fire. The door behind Fawkes slammed open and there stood Salaazar Slytherin looking out of breath and horrified.

"NO! Uni Luagto Labenturay Lembornas!" He shouted as he tried to undo the spell, but it was too late. The amulets and their powers had melted into the phoenix, and even then were circulating through her bloodstream.

"Salaazar?" Gryffindor gasped in shock. He covered his eyes as the blinding light began to pierce through the whole room.

"You-You will pay! Light? LIGHT?! What darkness have I brought on? What darkness is there in ridding the world of the filth that infests it?" Salaazar Slytherin shrieked as the light began to swallow his body.

"Think about what you're saying, Salaazar! What good can come of killing of muggleborns and half bloods? If you divide purebloods from the rest, then it can only result in death and violence! How is this not evil?"

"If that is the evil of which you speak, then I say let it run rampant! The world is dirty enough without such filthy vermin polluting it! If killing off mudbloods is evil, then I support it! Darkness shall cover the earth and my line shall rule! If this is evil, then evil will dominate!"

The floor began to shake violently and the two men were thrown from here to there, still seeing nothing but the bright, burning light. The floor began to crumble and the office began to detach from the rest of the building.

Suddenly the two could feel nothing. They were floating in a white light, which had a center that was burning bright red. Salaazar squinted at the red, trying to discern what it was. It was Fawkes. He twisted himself until he came to his feet, and lunged at her. Fawkes swiftly flew out of reach and the white light vanished. Slytherin and Gryffindor could see the shattered office once more and observed that it was floating far away from the castle itself.

Salaazar looked at Gryffindor with such hatred and venom that if looks could kill, Gryffindor would have died right there and then. He slowly got to his feet and drew out his wand.

"You...Gryffindor—protector of all mudbloods and vermin—you will pay. You shall be sorry that you ever tried to defy the great Salaazar Slytherin!" Suddenly the fire and all remaining light extinguished from the room, leaving the two bathed in darkness. All that could be seen was the terrible shape of Slytherin illuminated in a pale green flame.

Gryffindor quickly got to his feet and looked in shock at Slytherin.

"Salaazar...think! Stop and think about what you are doing! Why are you wishing to destroy everything we have worked for? Has ambition and greed completely devoured your heart?"

Slytherin looked at Gryffindor and said, quite coldly,

"I am much more then you, a common man, Godric. I have no heart and need no heart. I have only one thing left to say to you. It is what I have lived by all of these years, and I will not be the only person to live by it. You fool. There is no good and evil. Only power... and those too weak to seek it." Slytherin was slowly advancing with his wand pointed at a helpless Gryffindor, when Fawkes flew by in increasing speed and swept the wand from his hand.

"Dratted bird. You shall pay too, cretin. You can be sure of

that!" Slytherin yelled as he looked at the phoenix. He then noticed Gryffindor, who had been steadily sneaking up from behind him, as to knock him unconscious and bind him. He whirled around and knocked Gryffindor to the ground.

"You thought you could just overcome me? By putting our amulets into that dratted bird? You are in denial Gryffindor! Evil shall dominate and I, The Great Salaazar Slytherin, shall rule it!" Slytherin was screaming at the top of his lungs; an evil gleam had come into his eyes. He stood in front of the fireplace, wheezing and trying to catch his breath.

"Salaazar....what has gotten into you? What are you doing?" Gryffindor looked in fear at Slytherin's hand, which was curled around his wand again, and was pointed at him.

"You old fool. I told you many years ago. Mudbloods and mudblood lovers do not deserve to live. As you are the number one mudblood lover, you do not either." Slytherin said in a soft and evil voice, as his eyes glinted maliciously. Suddenly he could take speech no longer,

"CRUCIO!"

An enormous green light erupted from the end of his wand and shattered a glass mirror as Gryffindor leaped out of the way, just in time. Gryffindor quickly drew his own wand out of his robes and dodged another curse aimed by Slytherin.

"Salaazar, you have gone too far! What is this treachery? I know you hate muggleborns, but now you are aiming to kill one of your oldest friends!"

"You...a friend?" Slytherin said. He threw back his head and laughed; his laugh was high and cold and made the hair stand on the back of Gryffindor's neck. "Since when have you stuck up for me, or supported my ideas and ways? No...you are not a friend, Gryffindor, you are an enemy. And enemies do not live. Expelliarmus!"

Gryffindor's wand flew out of his hand and landed at Slytherin's feet. Slytherin slowly bent over and picked it up, his face completely devoured in greed.

"And now...the great Salaazar Slytherin faces his former friend...the traitor. He tried to cast Slytherin down, but to no avail. Now Slytherin will cast him down! Crucio!"

Once more a great green light emitted from the end of Slytherin's wand, but this time the aim was true. The curse hit Gryffindor right in the chest and Slytherin laughed cruelly as Gryffindor crumpled to his knees and screamed in pain.

"You have won Salaazar," Gryffindor gasped, as the curse slowly wore down. "For now. I hope that your ambition and power proves you well and grants you all that you worked for. I hope that all of your dreams come true, as you had to kill...murder...one of your oldest and truest friends to get it. I trusted you Salaazar. You were my friend. I would have listened and done anything to help you, if they were in good intentions. But you never listened, Salaazar...never...until..."

And even as Gryffindor uttered his last words, Slytherin raised his wand again, a cold smile on his face.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Gryffindor fell to the floor with a thud as a blinding green light pierced through his body, tears streaming down his face. His bright blue eyes lost their twinkle and his hair lost its golden gleam. His face and hands became as pale as the waning moon, and the warmth from his body dissipated into the icy depths death. As he lay there, a golden light surrounded his body and swept upwards. It glittered and sparkled in midair for a moment and then, like a feather, floated over to Fawkes and went within her flames.

Slytherin stood there, looking horrified for the moment. There was truth in what Gryffindor had said. He hadn't listened...until that instant. He reached down and touched his old friend's hands, cold as ice and frighteningly pale, and for a moment his old innocence came back.

"What have I done? Godric, Godric...wake up! How could I have done this?" Slytherin said softly into the heavy silence. But his mind, so rotten with greed and ambition, could not be pure again, and in a few minutes the moment passed and his mind returned to its former evil.

"So...The Courageous Godric Gryffindor is dead at last. Fool. You should have known that you could never defeat me; The Great Salaazar Slytherin!" He looked venomously at Gryffindor and spat at his feet. Then Slytherin slowly drew his gaze upwards and saw Fawkes.

"So....has the traitor put all of our powers into his little birdy? Awww...if that isn't the sweetest thing I have ever heard. Come here little one, come here," Slytherin called to Fawkes nastily. But Fawkes had a mind of her own, even though she was a phoenix, and could sense that there was evil surrounding this man. She swiftly flew out of Slytherin's reach and perched on the windowsill.

Slytherin picked up his wand and aimed it at Fawkes. As his eyes became clouded in hatred and hunger for power he overlooked the fact that nothing could kill her, now that she had the amulets inside. Any spell cast on her would be bounced right back to the conjurer, and it was this blindness that became his undoing.

"So you, like your master, wish to defy Salaazar Slytherin too? That is all well, you too, then, shall have a death most earned! Avada Kedavra!"

A blinding green light filled the room, as the spell hit Fawkes. Her flames turned a dazzling white and exploded into the room. The glass shattered, the wood burst, and everything was engulfed in fire. The white flames flickered viciously and quickly ate across the entire room. It shot through the walls and destroyed everything within a mile of the burning office. A deafening roar filled the dead silence of the night. The castle and its surroundings blazed in a piercing white glow. Finally all the flames relinquished their grips of the room and gathered near Fawkes again. The flames gathered into a brightly glowing orb, gaining power. Just as the intensity of the light reached a painful level, the orb shot powerfully towards a shocked and fatally weak Slytherin. It ate through his body, devouring his heart and mind. As the light of the orb gradually began to ebb away, Salaazar Slytherin collapsed by the friend that he had murdered. He lay there, never to awaken again.

The flames of the diminishing orb slowly released Slytherin and retreated back to Fawkes, flowing inside of her once more. Fawkes stood still on the windowsill and, as if she had a spirit within her that was more human than phoenix, she turned her head, after looking for a few minutes at the sprawled figures of the two dead friends, and looked out into the dawning sky, tears flowing down her ruffled, scarlet feathers.


	2. An Unexpected Visitor

Disclaimer: As has already been stated [see chapter one for specific wording], I do not, by any means, own any of the characters, background information, places, or past events present in this fic that are also in the Harry Potter books. The only thing I own from this fic is the plot. Everything else belongs to England's richest woman.

An Unexpected Visitor

"Why are you sitting there? Get up and mow the lawn! Now! I won't tell you a second time!" Aunt Petunia shrieked.

"Eh?" Harry tore his eyes away from a flower plant and looked at his aunt's furious face.

He had been daydreaming. It had been happening a lot since his return from Hogwarts. Sometimes it was about Sirius; sometimes about Ron and Hermione, but recently his daydreams had been turning to Voldemort. It was as if he had no control over his mind.

"Out! Mow! Now!" Aunt Petunia was turning red in the face, obviously angry that he had not been paying attention.

Harry sighed and trudged to the front door. He was back at the Dursley's for another dreary summer. Though it was half over, he couldn't help but think that the days until his return to Hogwarts were only growing longer; while his patience wore thin.

The Dursley's were acting as they usually did; still afraid that Sirius would come and turn them all into bats, but also afraid that the neighbors would find out about Harry and his "abnormality". So they continued to ignore him. The only occasion his Aunt and Uncle would talk to him was when they ordered him about, and Dudley stayed clear of him all of the time. It didn't matter to Harry. He preferred it this way.

As Harry looked around the room, it seemed that everything was fuzzy and blurry. It took a minute before he realized that his glasses had fallen off while he had been daydreaming. He went back to the table, picked it up, and stood still for a moment. This time he had been seeing some sort of image. It took place a long time ago; that was clear. But what was it? Harry tried to remember, but it seemed to be just a vague memory. Two people...and a phoenix. Who were they? He thought harder, but the image faded even more and soon he couldn't remember any of it at all. Finally he sighed and went outside.

The sun was blooming in the early morning sky and the flowers, which littered the garden, gave the impression of colorful confetti. Harry looked out over the lawn. The grass was growing ankle high, thanks to his neglecting to cut it, and a tall tree hovered over a very blue shed. As Harry looked around the weed-covered yard, a rushing sound came to his ears. The ground underneath his feet shook violently and the brightly lit sky faded into a midnight black. Instead of the peaceful surroundings of Privet Drive, there was terrified screaming and shouting all around him.

Harry whirled about, the color draining from his face. People stood all around him, fear evident in their expressions. Their long, unkempt hair and dirty faces hinted at an agricultural sort of life. Their clothes, tattered and torn, were certainly not of this day and age. Where was he? Harry backed into a wall. He was in a dark place, a time long ago; there was no doubt about that. But when? And where? Harry tried to think, but found that he couldn't; the fog surrounding him was too great. He felt as though he were in a vague memory that was growing hazier instead of clearer. Harry's eyes rolled back into his head and when they found their normal positions again, a new picture was laid out before him. Four people of great power stood before him, all of them crowded around a phoenix. The fog around him seemed to surge, wrapping the four figures so they could not be seen clearly. Who were they? A huge castle glinted dimly in the distance. Where were they? Harry held his breath; a shadow of immense magnitude was rushing toward the four. What was going on?

He tried to focus on the vision, but it only became harder to concentrate. Soon, the apparition melted away and he couldn't remember or see any of it. As he tried to get his thoughts oriented, agonizing screams broke out all around him. Harry's heart seemed to miss a beat and he found himself engulfed in cold fear. He tried frantically to open his eyes and when that failed he struggled to shout; wanting to call for help. It was no use—his body had stopped responding to his commands. All Harry could do was see the flickering shadows of an enormous fire against his eyelids and feel the heat of an intense glare, while pinned against an old and crumbling wall. In the midst of it all, a loud, wailing cry broke through; making the very foundations of the earth quiver. As if on cue, the sky began to lighten, the screams dimmed, and the vision faded. Once again, Harry Potter was standing in the front yard of number four, Privet Drive.

Harry sank to the ground; his legs couldn't seem to take his weight anymore. He was agitated by what he had just experienced—he couldn't seem to remember many of the details, but the fear that had gripped his heart still had not released its icy clutch. Shaking, he turned his head back to look at the Dursley's through the open window. Aunt Petunia was washing dishes and Dudley was moodily eating a grapefruit slice. Neither of them seemed to realize what had just happened. At that moment, for perhaps not the first time in his life, Harry wanted to talk to someone, anyone, about what he had just seen. What he had just fallen into. But the Dursley's wouldn't understand. They wouldn't even care.

Harry glanced around the yard hopelessly. A frivolous thought popped into his head, as frivolous thoughts tend to do in such serious situations.

The Dursley's lawn was so much different from the Weasley's. It was perhaps covered in a few unwanted weeds—the grass was obviously a little too high—but the Weasley's yard could not even be imagined. To think that the Weasley's front lawn could walk, talk, and bite—those gnomes really were a menace—was almost laughable. Personally, Harry preferred the Weasley's yard. It was messy, wild, spontaneous; it was littered with everything and not orderly in the least. The thought, as unwanted as it was, helped Harry recollect himself. With some effort, he pushed himself up and stood for a few moments to catch his breath. As his racing heart slowed down, he decided that he needed to go about as he normally did and calm down. _It won't do any good to stand around and cower. _Shakily, Harry went to the shed and got the lawn mower. He pushed all of his thoughts to a corner of his mind and spent the rest of the morning mowing the lawn under the hot July sun.

After finishing his chore, Harry wandered around the yard in a daze. The jumble of ideas, which he had pushed away, tumbled out of his safekeeping. What was going on? Why was this happening to him? He drifted along, unaware of his surroundings, and didn't even realize where his feet had led him until he was right in front of the Dursley's front door. Deciding that he'd let his subconscious lead him for a while, Harry let himself be guided back inside for his pathetic, meager lunch. After he finished—it didn't take long at all—he strayed back outside and over to the tree that grew in the yard.

He sat leaning against the tree. He certainly didn't want to go back inside to face the Dursley's. He wanted to forget them. To forget what had happened. Rather, he felt perfectly content just thinking about the people he cared about. Wondering if Hermione had gone to visit Krum. Or what Ron was doing at the Burrow. But most of all, Harry thought of Sirius and what he was doing. Sirius was supposed to contact the 'old crowd', on Dumbledore's order. Yes, Dumbledore. Harry wondered what complex thoughts were running through Dumbledore's mind as well. Getting tangled in his own thoughts and dreams, Harry spent the rest of the afternoon away. Noticing that the sun had set, he decided it was time to go back inside.

When he finally led himself inside, Uncle Vernon had come back from work and was having some sort of an argument with Aunt Petunia.

"No! I am _not _taking him with us Petunia! A vacation is supposed to be relaxing! For us! He is _not_ going!" Uncle Vernon was shouting furiously and his face was turning a nasty shade of purple.

"Well what do you suggest Vernon? We leave him here? To come back and find the house in shambles? We cannot leave him here alone! I am not leaving him in _my_ house, without _me_!" Aunt Petunia was shrieking so loudly that even Dudley took his eyes off the television set to stare at her. Dudley was the same as he ever was; big and porky, with no interest in anything that didn't involve food, bullying, or fighting. He was failing close to all of his subjects at Smeltings, and often was sent home on probation for harassing and brawling with those smaller than him.

"I don't know Petunia. I don't know. Marge won't take him, none of your friends can take him..." Uncle Vernon quieted down.

Harry sighed. They were talking about their vacation. Again. The Dursley's were taking a one-week vacation to Ireland to see Uncle Vernon's friend, and it didn't look like Harry was going to go. He didn't mind; he didn't want to go anywhere with the Dursley's, but he still didn't know where he was going to stay.

"Come now Vernon, we still have a week left to decide what to do with him. Don't stress yourself, we'll figure it out." Aunt Petunia said soothingly.

Uncle Vernon had been under a lot of stress this summer. He had been promoted to Vice President of Grunnings and, as a result, had to go through piles of papers every day on top of managing employees and other pressures that came with the position. He had managed to get a week off, in which the Dursley's were going to Ireland. He was strained, and the stress was causing his temper to rise in such a way that he had started to argue with even Aunt Petunia on a daily basis.

"I guess you're right dear. I just lost my temper for a moment. What's for dinner?" Uncle Vernon apologized to Aunt Petunia. They walked away to the kitchen, quietly discussing something or another.

Harry shook his head a little and went upstairs to his room. His papers and quills littered his desk, and his robes and other magic supplies were trailed all around. Stepping carefully over his cauldron, Harry went to his window and looked out. The sky was an enchanting dark blue and the stars were shining brightly against it.

"It's almost like that night." Harry whispered softly. He was referring to the night of the final Triwizard task...the night Voldemort regained his power. When he went into the maze, he never knew how it would affect him. Never imagined what would happen.

As Harry looked out into the sky, the events from the Triwizard Tournament and all the year flashed through his head. The corner of his eyes started to burn and his throat was becoming too tight and sticky for comfort. Quickly, in order to suppress himself from crying, he turned his head to a dark object that was flying towards his window and concentrated on it. The dark object flew with an increasing speed and came and landed on Harry's outstretched arm.

"Hullo Hedwig," Harry greeted as he stroked her velvety feathers.

Hedwig pecked Harry's finger affectionately and stretched out her leg so that He could relieve her of her burden. Harry quickly untied the package she was carrying, and a letter, which was hidden underneath the parcel, fell into his lap. As Hedwig flew to her cage to get a drink, Harry stared at the letter that had fallen into his lap. It was addressed from Professor Lupin.

Harry tore the envelope open and read the letter:  
  
_Dear Harry,  
  
We hope that this letter finds you safe and sound at your Aunt and Uncle's house. Padfoot has come to my house on the order of Professor Dumbledore, as you should know. He is still waiting to hear from Dumbledore. Padfoot recounted to me everything that had happened that night in the maze. Everything that you explained, including the behavior of Fudge. I was shocked to hear about his disrespect to your story, but not at all surprised of his actions. Fudge has always been a narrow sighted man. I have a theory about him, but I won't tell you just yet, in case you decide to go and investigate for yourself. Harry, now that the Dark Lord has come back, you must not do any sort of meddling. Keep yourself out of trouble. It's only a matter of time before Lord Voldemort tries to capture you or pull another stunt like the Triwizard Tournament—even though Dumbledore is sworn to prevent that. I may sound overbearing, but we are all just trying to protect you. None of us want anything to happen to you. Do not under any circumstances leave your relatives!  
  
_Moony's writing ended there, but the letter went on. Harry recognized the handwriting, for the rest of the letter, as Sirius's._  
  
Harry, I hope you are well. Hermione wrote me a letter, telling me all about that dratted Skeeter woman. Serves her right, the old bat. Now to be serious; listen to Moony, Harry. Do not wander around and do not try to escape from the Dursley's. It will only be a danger to you, even if it relieves you of them. We also have a bit of news. We think we have found out something about you, something that we think may explain all that has happened to you. Dumbledore won't tell us anything about it—we've tried to wheedle hints out of him—but that only makes us more suspicious. You really are amazing, Harry. You truly are. We must go now. Whenever you need anything, just send us an owl. Hedwig knows where to find us, and we are always here to help. Take care of yourself and we hope to see you sometime soon.  
  
Padfoot and Moony_

Harry stood silent, re-reading the letter, as a cool breeze washed in from the window.

"Don't run away from the Dursley's," he muttered. "Who are _they_ to tell me what to do?" Harry furiously eyed the sentence.

"But they care for you. They only want to protect you."

Harry jumped, the sudden voice giving him quite a fright. Whirling around, at first he couldn't anything. Slowly his eyes met two bright gleams in the semi-darkness. The shape stepped into view. It was a cat.

"Who...are you?" Harry spluttered.

"A good question, that is. Who am I? But then, who is anyone? What is anyone? Must we always be humans? We may come in other shapes you know." The cat twitched its tail and looked amusedly at Harry's puzzled expression.

"You may call me Ara, if you must," the cat said.

"Ara. Er...nice to meet you." said Harry, at a complete loss of words. Harry looked at the cat's features closely. She seemed to be old. Quite old. She had grayish fur that was streaked with a light black color and a soft, old voice that sounded oddly familiar.

"Likewise, Harry Potter. Oh do not be so nervous, dear. Every one of us knows who you are. I'd have thought you'd be used to it by now." Ara sprang up lightly onto Harry's bed and sat down.

"I'm sorry. I've just never met an animal that's talked to me before," Harry apologized.

"Not truly. You can talk to snakes, if I'm not mistaken. And haven't you talked to acromantulas and centaurs before? Yes I know all about you and your unique powers." The cat looked sternly at Harry's blank face.

Harry continued staring down perplexedly at Ara.

"I am here to help you, Mr. Potter. Do not seem so shocked; you know me. You know me very well, just as I know you. The times we've met, however, you haven't seemed to take to me much. We'll see if we cannot change that this time around."

Harry shifted nervously on his bed and was distracted when his arm touched the package Hedwig had brought with the letter.

"I forgot about this," Harry muttered to himself. He slowly opened the package and a picture frame fell onto his lap.

It was a moving picture of Sirius, Professor Lupin, and his mom and dad. They were very young—laughing and carefree as they waved to him within the picture. Harry recognized the background as the Gryffindor common room. Gaping at the picture, Harry turned the frame over and read a little note on the back.

_Happy Birthday, Harry. Your parents would have been proud. -Padfoot & Moony_

"My...birthday. It's tomorrow isn't it? I had almost forgotten," he whispered softly.

"Yes. Your fifteenth birthday. How special this birthday is, you don't know...and maybe won't know for some time yet. Happy Birthday my dear boy, you will be in for a surprise tomorrow. I can assure you," Ara's eyes twinkled and she hopped out the open window onto a treelimb, as stealthily as she came.

Harry was left alone, quietly looking at the picture frame in his hand.

... ...

The next morning when Harry went down to breakfast his aunt and uncle were yelling at each other again.

"I don't know Vernon! What do _you_ suggest?" Aunt Petunia was shrieking loudly.

"Well, we _don't_ want him to come with us. But who will take care of the dratted boy while we're away? You _know I do not want him along_. We have gone over this enough times! " Uncle Vernon bellowed.

"Vernon-," Aunt Petunia started angrily. Suddenly she stopped. It was as if a thought had suddenly dawned upon her. Slowly she looked out the window, "Mrs. Figg might be able to..."

"No!" gasped Harry. Harry had managed to avoid seeing pictures of "Muffin", "Mr. Paws", and "Tufty" for nearly four years now. He didn't want to lose his winning streak now.

Uncle Vernon glared at Harry. "It's bad enough, boy, that my vacation has been moved up and we must leave by tomorrow. But now you think you can invade the only part of the summer we have away from you? _And don't you dare interrupt!_"

Harry looked at his aunt and uncle.

"I could ask my friend Ron if I could stay over at his house, I'm sure the Weasley's wouldn't mind," Harry put up timidly. He was in no mood to be yelled at.

His aunt and uncle looked at him loathingly. Uncle Vernon was just about to say something when the doorbell rang. With a fierce look at Harry, he smoothed his mustache and went to answer the door. It was old Mrs. Figg. Harry privately groaned.

"Hello dear. I was wondering if I could borrow a cup of sugar," she said in a soft, old voice.

Harry choked on his milk. Looking up, he stared at her. She sounded just like-

"Oh yes Mrs. Figg. Right this way," Aunt Petunia ushered Mrs. Figg into the kitchen. Just as the two went in a sharp knock came from the door. Uncle Vernon went and opened the door and found himself face-to-face with a tall old man with a long white beard. He had amazing blue eyes, which twinkled behind half moon spectacles that dangled on a long crooked nose. He was wearing a long purple robe and spoke softly and quickly.

"Good day, Mr. Dursley. If chance may allow it, may I please speak with Harry Potter?" said the elderly man with an odd smile

Harry walked to the door upon hearing his name, and his mouth fell open. For a moment he thought he had lost his mind.

"_Professor Dumbledore_?" he exclaimed.

"Ah! Good morning Harry! Surprised to see me, I take it? Yes, it's not everyday you find your headmaster paying you a visit now is it? Although, come to think of it, that does remind me of an amusing story..." Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled behind his spectacles.

Uncle Vernon was struck dumb and Aunt Petunia gasped as she and Mrs. Figg walked to the doorway with a cup of sugar. Dumbledore stopped mid-sentence and smiled at the newcomers:

"Ahhh, I see you've already arrived here, Arabella. Excellent! Now then, perhaps you ought to explain to Harry what exactly is going on. He doesn't look very informed, nor very attractive with his mouth open like that," Professor Dumbledore smiled mischievously at Mrs. Figg.

"A-Arabella? As in the one Sirius was sent to notify over the summer?" Harry closed his mouth quickly, and looked anxiously at Mrs. Figg.

"Yes, Harry dear, I am Arabella Figg. And no, I am not a muggle," Mrs. Figg smiled at him. "I have come here to relieve you of your relations and your relations of you for the time being. I know I have not been the best of caretakers before, but it was all for your own safety and well being. Now, I gave you a proposition last night, and have given you time to think over it. So, would you--"

"Last night? You mean you're Ara?" Harry looked positively perplexed.

"Yes, I am an animagus, in the form of a cat. I am not an old lady who feeds stale cake, in true form," Arabella said while whisking out her wand.

"Now, now Arabella. No need to get excited. I am under the impression that the ministry has some silly rule about no magic in front of muggles," Dumbledore said chuckling. "Even if the muggles are quite aware of magic and our world."

Upon hearing the word 'muggles', Uncle Vernon snapped out of his trance.

"Now listen here, the two of you! I don't know what it is you're playing at, but I want you two out of my house! _This instant!_"

Professor Dumbledore turned to stare at him. Dumbledore gave him a piercing look. He raised his eyebrows ever so slightly; his lips twitched as if to suppress a smile.

"You are Harry's uncle? Vernon Dursley? And I suppose that is Petunia Evans, sister to Lily Evans, Harry's mother?"

At the mention of her sister's name and her own maiden name Petunia burst out in anger.

"_Who_ do you think you are? _I want you out of my house this instant!_" she screeched loudly. Her eyes bugging out, she turned to Mrs. Figg. "And you! You're one of them aren't you? All these years we've trusted you with the boy! You've been helping him _haven't you? _And_ you, boy_! You good-for-nothing lowly creature! How dare you! All we've done for you and _this_ is how you repay us! You ought to be sent away! You should be imprisoned! You need to be-"

"Arabella, please calm Mrs. Dursley down while I have a word with Harry and his uncle," Dumbledore calmly said to Mrs. Figg. As she hurried Petunia to the kitchen, Dumbledore turned to Harry and Uncle Vernon.

"Mr. Dursley, I know what your opinion of our kind is, and I know just as well what you'd rather have me do. Or rather, where you'd have me go to or be,' at this Dumbledore paused...and the same odd smile impressed upon his face. Harry suspected Dumbledore was quite enjoying himself at this moment.

'Right now, however, I fear you must place aside these feelings. We have more important issues at hand," Dumbledore spoke sharply, the smile slowly fading; Uncle Vernon stayed silent.

"As you know, Lily Evans and James Potter, your sister-in-law and her husband, were murdered by a dark wizard many years ago. Please let me finish, Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore said sharply as Uncle Vernon started to interrupt. "I know you and your family do not like any signs, hints, or mention of magic or the abnormal. I am well aware of this. However, it is with the utmost regret that I must now tell you what is going on... for as much as you hate magic, you are to be just as affected by this as us. The dark wizard that caused so many murders years ago was named Lord Voldemort. He took pride in killing people, magical or no, and he did not stop for anyone.'

'I had told you exactly what happened in the letter fourteen years ago, but I will refresh your memory. And perhaps this time, you will understand the complexity and bravery of it, better." said Dumbledore. Uncle Vernon seemed to be chewing his tongue.

"Fourteen years ago, on Halloween night, Lord Voldemort showed up at your sister- in-laws and killed her and her husband. He turned on Harry and tried to kill him with a curse. For some reason, however, the curse did not work. Harry survived the encounter, and the Dark Lord's powers were stripped from him. He was but a shadow, no more. That was fourteen years ago," Dumbledore stopped to collect his breath.

"Yes...I know all of this. I do not know _why _I must hear this again," growled Uncle Vernon.

"I am sorry you must hear this Mr. Dursley, but I must warn you. For as long as Harry is anywhere near the vicinity of you, as long as his _name _and your names are mentioned together, you _and_ your family are in grave danger. At the end of Harry's term last year, Harry had his fourth encounter with the Dark Lord. Harry managed to survive, but a dark cloud hangs over all of us. For the Dark Lord, with the help of his servant, has returned. And now, not only witches and wizards, but all of you non-magic people are in danger as well. The only way to defeat the Dark Lord is through Harry. And for this we must keep him well protected. For the good of our world...and yours," Dumbledore finished softly.

There was silence from all around the room. Dudley was standing beside his mum, clutching his bottom in fear of the wizard, Aunt Petunia was standing in the hallway staring at Professor Dumbledore, and Uncle Vernon was glaring furiously at him. However, Harry...Harry was just standing. Leaning against the wall, lost in thoughts.

"We...we know this may be hard to take. And I suppose it is completely up to your family if you would like to keep Harry next year or not...but think about it. He doesn't like you any better than you like him, yet he has nowhere else to go. He never got to know his parents...and now. Now, he'll be in danger wherever he is. You may not like him, and you may not want to risk yourselves for a 'good-for-nothing boy', but he is your nephew. I do not believe you are completely void of feelings for this boy, Petunia. Or in the very least, empty of feelings for your sister. That is the only reason I can think of... that's why you didn't just send Harry to an orphanage.'

'Harry is the safest with you; there is a protection with his family that he cannot get elsewhere. We need to protect him. If we don't, then your world will fall apart too; Lord Voldemort stops at no one. If he were to rule, there would be no muggles left. Just remember that." Arabella Figg said softly and gently steered Harry out of the door to her house.  
  
... ...


	3. An Alliance of Friends

Disclaimer: I think I need a default disclaimer to put on each chapter. This really is getting tiresome. As has been mentioned [two times before], I do not own Harry Potter, his friends, or anyone else you see in this fic that has appeared in the Harry Potter books. I do not own any places, events, or history that you see in this fic that corresponds to those in the books. I own only the storyline, some chapter titles, and a very shady character. The rest belongs to the master who made me want to write the fic. And I believe she lives in England.

An Alliance of Friends

Harry felt himself being guided into an old house. He looked around and while the surrounding _looked_ very familiar, it felt vaguely different. He was in Mrs. Figg's house and was being led into a shabby room. The walls were cracked, the furniture stained, and the halls dark. It was unnaturally cold and the windows were open. A sense of foreboding bore down upon him. Harry looked around tentatively. What was this odd feeling in the house?

All of a sudden Harry felt the wind change directions, and a chill rippled through his body. He began to shake and could hardly lift his feet. His scar burned and he was no longer aware of anything. His head throbbed so much that he hardly noticed the Headmaster, and Arabella, who had transformed into her true appearance- around the age of Sirius and Professor Lupin. He heard them talking, discussing plans, and carefully studying him, yet he was in a world unto himself. He couldn't feel, think, or pay attention. He didn't understand anything. He was confused. His memory and vision swam in and out. Where were they taking him? Where was he? Who were they? Where were his parents?

The curtains in the room flew up, as an ice-cold draft swam in through the open window. Suddenly Harry became rigid. His parents were dead. He was a wizard. His memory came flooding back to him. He stared up at Dumbledore, who had stopped with him.

"Harry? Is something the matter?" Dumbledore asked urgently.

But Harry couldn't see him. He couldn't hear him. All he could see was a terrible dead face that was illuminated with greed and hate. The wide, red eyes glared at him with such force that he stumbled backwards.

"Harry Potter...." it sneered.

Harry's scar burst into a new level of pain. His head felt like it would split in two. Harry was filled with terror. He couldn't see, couldn't move. He tried to turn around and run out of the grasp of the dead green hands that slowly edged towards him, but it was too late. The wizard had gotten him. He was captured. He was lost.

As Harry fell unconscious, he snapped back to reality. His scar still pierced on his forehead, but his vision swam back to normal and he become aware of Professor Dumbledore and Arabella crowding around him. With a weak shiver, his sight turned black and he noticed no more.

... ...

"I think he's been seeing things. Things that have no place in the mind of a fifteen year old," Dumbledore said.

Harry was hearing things. He was sure of it. What was Professor Dumbledore doing here? Why wasn't Aunt Petunia yelling at him to wake up?

He groaned. His scar was burning dully on his forehead, his eyes hurt, he was having trouble breathing, and his head was thudding, as if being pounded by cauldrons. Another cold breeze swept through the room and Harry's blood turned ice-cold. He couldn't understand or remember anything. He shot straight up in his bed and toppled over the side.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed, as he realized that he had been laying on a narrow and lofty, mattress. "Should have watched out for that."

Albus Dumbledore and Arabella Figg came into the room slowly, after hearing his thud from the other room.

"Harry," Arabella approached cautiously.

"Where am I, Mrs. Figg?" Harry said groggily, hearing her voice, but not truly seeing her. After a moment of rubbing his aching eyes, he caught sight of Professor Dumbledore. "P..Professor! What are you--"

Once more, all of his memories came slamming back to him. He remembered his vision and looked up fearfully at Professor Dumbledore.

"Harry. I do not know what it is you saw, but I can assure you that I am the Headmaster," Professor Dumbledore said.

Harry nodded timidly. Professor Dumbledore always seemed to be able to read his mind, as he had just now. Although it was a usually a bit unsettling, it was quite comforting at the moment.

"Harry!" A voice cried, as the front door burst open, from downstairs.

"Sirius! Calm down! You'll scare him!" Another voice was calling, trying to catch up with the other. Harry, Arabella, and Dumbledore heard the two people pounding up the hallway, to the stairs.

"Sirius, Remus, please do settle down! Close that door properly, and come in here!" Arabella called out sternly.

Harry heard a door click shut and the two figures come rushing up the stairs to the room. He looked at the door, where the two men were standing. One was thin, average height, with many grey hairs popping up among his handsome head. He was wearing a shabby wizard robe and looked very concerned, yet calmly so. The other man was tall and thin, with long dark brownish-black hair. He had a handsome face, which was currently masked beneath an extremely anxious one.

"Harry! Harry, are you all right?" Sirius came rushing to him.

Dumbledore met him halfway.

"Sirius, _do _calm down. Harry has just woken up. He recognizes that I am the Headmaster and he's not dashing about, running into doors. He is fine, as far as I can reason. Please, let him catch his breath."

Sirius blushed and stopped.

"Hello Headmaster, Arabella," the one who had remained calm, greeted.

"Hello Remus. I am glad that you two could make it. No one else has arrived yet, and none of us have had lunch. Please, calm your companion down and join us," Arabella smiled.

"Excellent idea, Arabella. Harry, will you please come and join us for some delicious food. I do believe some food in your system will clear your mind," Professor Dumbledore kindly escorted Harry down the stairs to the dining room.

The dining room was a small, cramped room. It was old; the wallpaper was peeling, the furniture was torn, and it smelled oddly like cabbages. There were framed pictures of cats all around, yet there were no cats to be seen.

Harry was reminded of every visit he had ever had with Mrs. Figg and how she had adored her cats. He couldn't recall a single time when he had not seen any of them.

"Mrs. Figg—where are your cats?" he asked timidly, still not believing that old Mrs. Figg could actually turn out to be this young, beautiful witch.

"Oh, do call me Ara, Harry. Old Mrs. Figg is now a part of the past," Arabella waved the name away cheerfully. "What? Oh my cats! Yes, well they are...being entertained. But only for this week," she winked at him.

"This week? What's going on this week?" Harry looked to Professor Dumbledore.

"This week? Well...let's just say, you might be meeting a few new people. And being reintroduced to some old ones. But come now—let's talk later. Now we eat!" Dumbledore started serving sandwiches and pumpkin juice to everyone.

Lunch was eaten happily. Sirius and Remus argued with each other—after they had been assured that Harry was indeed all right—as Arabella and Harry laughed, and Dumbledore twinkled behind them.

"No no no! I did not do that, Remus!"

"I do remember! Cygnus was teasing you, and you took it personally! Called her a 'Big Good-For-Nothing Nuisance' and transfigured her book bag into a badger, you did! Then she went and told Professor McGonagall, and _you_ got detention. Didn't even get the hint that she liked you!" Lupin was grinning from ear to ear.

Arabella and Harry snickered into their napkins, as Sirius took a big bite of his sandwich and continued to argue with Remus.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, just as Sirius was getting ready to transform _Remus_ into a badger, and got everyone's attention.

"All right then. Now that lunch has been _enjoyed_," he looked pointedly at Sirius and Remus, "we can get down to business. Our other guests have not yet arrived, and I daresay they may not until dinnertime, but we must get things underway.'

'Harry, you have no idea what we are talking about, of course. That will be explained later. I just want to start off by wishing you a happy fifteenth birthday," Professor Dumbledore smiled at Harry while the rest sat back and beamed at him.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry blushed.

"Now, on to business. All summer, as you three," Dumbledore continued, looking at Arabella, Sirius, and Professor Lupin seriously, "know, I have kept every one of you in contact. Should there have been a moment when security had been breeched, and Harry in dangers way, one of you would have been immediately notified and rushed forward to insure his safety. Luckily, nothing of the sort happened. Harry is safe with us, for now. I have called this meeting today because we all know that Lord Voldemort has risen once again. Our plans have been organized and our strategies devised, but we are still not far enough along to do anything. We must unite as many witches and wizards as possible for our cause. The Order needs to surpass Voldemort's own strength. We need to spread the truth quickly and efficaciously."

"How can we spread the truth? You've already tried to reason with Fudge, but, of course, the git wouldn't hear a word of it. After the load of rubbish that Skeeter woman wrote about Harry, how would we be able to persuade anyone to believe us?" Sirius asked.

"No matter what Fudge may believe and whatever Rita Skeeter may have written about Harry," Dumbledore glanced at Harry, "are of no matter. Under no circumstance am I asking Harry to relive last June's events—he has no need to tell anyone the truth. Witches and wizards are bound to get suspicious soon anyway, with or without Fudge's testimony—I am speaking of new activity among the Deatheaters."

"New activity? Have there been more disappearances?" Arabella asked sharply.

"Indeed, there have been," the Headmaster turned to Harry, Sirius, and Remus. "Every muggle—news-station, is it? —has been reporting disappearances all across Britain. Muggles seem to keep vanishing. No trace of them."

"Muggles? Disappearing? That's a bit odd. Wouldn't Voldemort want to keep a low profile at the moment? How would he expect to go unnoticed with muggles disappearing?" Harry asked blandly.

"Or more importantly, why would muggles be disappearing? With no bodies or corpses left behind? I mean...that doesn't sound like him. Just kidnapping? Voldemort doesn't kidnap...he kills," Sirius stared.

"Yes, that does sound strange. How would kidnapping muggles benefit him? Unless..." Lupin stared back from Arabella to Professor Dumbledore, wide-eyed, as if realizing something. "Of course! If they were all there, on his orders—spies, hidden from everyone. They would all vanish, wouldn't they, Headmaster? Now that the Dark Lord is back and has summoned them?"

"So you understand. Yes, they would," Professor Dumbledore nodded to Lupin.

Harry and Sirius looked puzzled.

"Like Arabella, many wizards pretend to be muggles. They hide in the muggle community, only using their powers when absolutely necessary. Yet, not all of them have the same intentions that she had. Many wizards hide themselves among muggles to escape justice, hide their lack of powers, or escape from the Ministry. They do as Wormtail did, only they act as muggles—not sewer rats," Professor Dumbledore explained.

Lupin was pacing across the room.

"Reports of muggle disappearances have been racing everywhere—I've heard them as well. We know, though, that Voldemort doesn't kidnap muggles. He kills them. So, the reports and the facts do not go hand and hand. Meaning--"

"That the disappearances weren't muggles, they were wizards. Wizards disguised as muggles! Probably Deatheaters that have been waiting word from their master! Deatheaters who never believed that their master had fallen. Deatheaters who are now being summoned—and probably richly rewarded for their loyalty—to Voldemort now that he has power enough to recruit them again. Am I correct, Professor?" Sirius turned to Dumbledore.

"We cannot be sure. How many loyal Deatheaters would go about and join the ranks of the muggles? How many truly believed that Lord Voldemort did not die that night? How many would faithfully wait for their master's return for fourteen years? We cannot be sure of anything," the Headmaster replied slowly. "Voldemort himself, when speaking to his throng of Deatheaters last June, said that he had almost given up hope until Wormtail came along. But because of the nature of the disappearances...and in light of last June's events...that would be my theory, yes, Sirius."

"But then..." Harry hesitated, afraid of interfering.

"Yes, Harry? Go on," Professor Dumbledore urged.

"But then, we wouldn't know who was a Deatheater and who wasn't. Many of those disappearing might be squibs or those being put under the Imperius Curse," Harry said nervously. "I always hear about the numerous numbers of Deatheaters. Yet, there was only a handful of them present, when Voldemort called them th-that night."

Professor Dumbledore looked closely at Harry, as if studying him.

"Voldemort lost many supporters when he lost his powers. Many were killed by Aurors; many were freed of the Imperius Curse. So there wouldn't have been many when he called them last year. That and he never called all of his Deatheaters to him at once. He called only the inner circle—the Deatheaters that we know about, that you saw—to him. He would announce his plans and orders to them, then they were ordered to go and tell the others. They were the ringleaders. The head of the Deatheaters, even. That was how we caught so many of them last time. They were caught sending owls, or talking to fellow Deatheaters about their orders," Professor Dumbledore paced the room as well. "You are right, though. We will never know whom the true Deatheaters are, who are being forced against their wills, or who are innocent, just caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. That is half of our problem.'

'On top of that," Professor Dumbledore turned to Arabella, Remus, and Sirius, "I have reason to believe that we have another traitor among us. Wormtail wasn't the only spy for Voldemort. We have another. Information is being leaked out, yet we do not know how, or by whom. All I know is that whoever it is, they're close to us. And that they are here, in our own Ministry—and I do not mean Lucius. Someone else...perhaps more powerful."

The room became silent. No one talked for a while, for they were all were deep in thought. The clock suddenly chimed loudly, breaking them abruptly out of their reverie.

"Headmaster...do you have no clue who it might be?" Sirius asked quietly.

"Only guesses, Sirius. And accusations never get us far," Dumbledore replied swiftly.

"Headmaster, Sirius and I have been discussing it, and---"

"Hello? _Hello_?!" a pounding sound came from the front of the house.

Everyone went stiff, listening to the beating on the door.

"_Hello_?Is anyone _there_?_ Arabella_? Arabella! Do you expect us to wait out here all day?"

"Aaah, I recognize that voice. Harry, why don't you get the front door?" Arabella smiled weakly at Harry.

Harry, though startled, walked through the musty hallway and reached the front door, as the person continued to hammer on it. As he opened the door, four figures toppled on top of him.

"I _told_ you four not to stand in front of the door! But do you _ever_ listen to me? Oh no! Of course not!" a plump lady with brilliant red hair was pulling them up. She was short and, though yelling angrily now, had a kind face. "Hello Harry dear! Have you had a nice summer? I'm terribly sorry about that. I _told_ Fred and George not to push."

She pulled Harry up and began dusting his glasses off.

"Hello Harry! Had a nice summer? I must say, you look absolutely marvelous!" one of the red haired boys said. He was short, stocky, and looked absolutely ridiculous in an overlarge pair of pants, a tweed sweater, and an artist's beret.

"Oh yes! Simply spectacular! That dust does wonders for your hair," another red haired boy beamed at him. He was wearing khaki pants, a bright purple t-shirt, a basketball jersey, and looked exactly like the other one.

"Oh hush you two! You know perfectly well that that is your fault!" the lady scolded, as the twins and the two others snickered behind her.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George" Harry said, grinning at the three. He looked at the twins uncertainly for a moment. "What are you wearing?"

"Oh, these? Dad reckons we should wear muggle clothes, since there are so many of them about," George said, staring distastefully at his clothes.

The third and fourth figures wobbled up and shook themselves off.

"Yes, well there are and you should. So no more arguments," the short man said, getting up and shaking Harry's hands. He was thin and going bald, yet the hair he had left was just as bright as any of the others'. "Harry, how are you? Good, I hope? Splendid!"

"I'm fine, Mr. Weasley, thank you," Harry laughed.

"Hullo Harry! Good to see you all in one piece!" the fourth person said. He was tall, lanky, and his hair was redder than the others'.

"Hello, Ron. Erm...thank you. I think," Harry grinned from ear to ear.

"Have you had a good-"

"Sorry, don't mean to rush, but where is the Headmaster?" Mr. Weasley interrupted.

"Professor Dumbledore is-"

"Right here! Glad you could make it, Arthur! And you, Molly!" Arabella came into the hall.

Professor Dumbledore and Remus came behind her and greeted the pack. Then Sirius stepped behind them.

"Sirius! What are you doing here?" Ron gaped.

"He was invited here, Ron. As were we all. Where would you expect him to be?" Lupin asked, amusement in his voice.

"Yes...well...I thought..." Ron muttered, turning red.

The rest of the Weasley's, meanwhile, were looking at Sirius with suspicion. Mrs. Weasley had met him the previous June, but they had never officially been introduced, and Fred, George, and Mr. Weasley hadn't met him at all. For all they knew, Sirius was still a deadly murderer.

"S-Sirius Black?" Mr. Weasley asked suspiciously.

"Arthur, Sirius is as innocent as you or I. He was framed long ago and I beg you to trust me. We need to stay focused, and use our suspicion on those who deserve it," Professor Dumbledore said sternly.

"Yes. Of course, Headmaster. Sorry. Nice to meet you, I'm Arthur Weasley," Mr. Weasley extended his hand to Sirius.

"Pleased to meet you, Arthur. I do believe we'll get to know each other soon enough. I already know your son quite well," Sirius shook Mr. Weasley's hand and grinned at Ron.

Harry and Ron exchanged amused looks as they looked at the bewildered Weasley family and then grinned up at Professor Dumbledore.

"Perhaps, the children should freshen up and fritter among themselves while all of our guests arrive," Professor Dumbledore winked at them.

Harry led Ron, Fred, and George up the stairs to Mrs. Figg's guest room. While the twin's freshened up in the bathroom, Harry and Ron sat on the bunk bed and talked.

"So, where's Percy?" Harry asked, referring to Ron's older brother who worked in the ministry.

"He's coming later. He's going to notify some people in the ministry about the meeting, or something. Do you know what this is about? This whole thing?" Ron asked, while walking around the room.

"No. Dumbledore wouldn't tell me anything," Harry replied.

"Dunno about this all. Mum and dad have been acting quite odd. Sent Ginny to her friend's house for the week, because they didn't want her involved or something. And so that we could stay here," Fred said, popping out of the bathroom.

George followed him out. "Threw a fit, Ginny did. Couldn't believe that mum and dad wouldn't let her-"

"You're staying here? For a week?" Harry interrupted, his face displaying the shock he felt.

"Yes, you silly twit. You don't think we're going to keep popping back here everyday, do you? It would look suspicious—to the stupid muggles and any Deatheaters who might be watching us," George snickered at him.

"The meeting's going to last a week?" Ron asked, wide-eyed.

"We suppose so. We heard mum and dad talking about it," Fred nodded at Ron. "We also heard something about an alliance, a sort of order."

"What, like King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table or something?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Oh yes Ron, we're going to be Professor Dumbledore and the Wizards of the Square Desk," George said, hitting Ron on his head.

"You stupid git, how lame would that be? How are we supposed to defeat You-Know-Who with a name like that?" Fred scoffed at his younger brother.

"Did I hear something about a King Arthur?" Mr. Weasley chuckled, popping his head into the room.

"Need something, Mr. Weasley?" Harry grinned.

"Yes, in fact I do, Harry. We need you kids to greet the guests that come. Is that alright?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Sure," Ron said. "Hey dad! Can you tell us anything about this mystery meeting or anything about this coming week?"

"I could," Mr. Weasley said slowly. "But I won't. You will all see soon enough. Molly doesn't want you all to come to the meeting and I agree with her in some sense. She actually didn't want you lot to come at all, but you are old enough to handle yourselves. ...you'll all see soon enough. Too soon, in fact. Do yourselves a favor and try to laugh freely as long as you can. Something tells me, you won't be able to as much...in the near future."

Mr. Weasley walked out to join the others. A silence fell upon the kids. Fred and George stared at the walls while Harry and Ron gazed out the windows. They knew what Mr. Weasley was talking about. The dark times—they were once a story of the past, but not anymore. They were the present now. A new dark age had come—an unexpected one.

"You never know," Harry said quietly, "until you're in the middle of it...and then it's too late to turn back."

"Harry, don't...don't worry. It's Dumbledore. How can it go wrong?" Ron said nervously.

"I shudder to think what would happen if he wasn-"

"Don't even think that, Harry. Once you go down that path, there's no more hope. We should try to have faith in something while we can," Fred said sternly, to Harry's surprise.

"N.E.W.T's, O.W.L's, Hogwarts, Quidditch, how does any of it matter at all anymore?" Harry asked quietly, staring out the window.

"If we give up on the thing's we love and have control over, how will we ever win? Tell me, Harry. His power is in lies, chaos, and darkness—Dumbledore said so last year. So how will we defeat You-Know-Who if we give up on the very things that he wants us to give up on?," George said firmly.

Harry and Ron looked surprised. They had never seen the twins act so serious before.

"Why do you think that we're always joking around, even when there's nothing to be happy about? Why do you think we want to open a joke shop? Do you think it's because we're not serious enough? That we only want to get attention?" Fred looked at the two.

"I'd never really thought there could be another reason," Harry admitted guiltily.

"We may not be serious about many things and we may goof around a lot, but we know what things to care and be solemn about," Fred replied, ignoring Harry. "You-Know-Who _wants _us to give in. He wants us to give up everything we've ever believed in...everything we've ever loved. That's his power. He would be powerless if-"

"If we united and had the will to laugh. Laugh in the face of fear. And believe—if we had the power to believe in everyone and believe in hope. That's something he'll never have and never be able to fight off," Ron smiled at his older brothers. "I remember when Hagrid told me that. It was when I wasn't speaking with Harry. I didn't know what he meant, back then."

Harry stared across the street and was just about to say something when the doorbell rang and made them all jump.

"Can you get that, dears?" Arabella called from down below.

The four got up awkwardly and went downstairs to the door. They opened it and found themselves facing a rather eccentric looking old man.

"Dedalus Diggle's the name," the old man bowed excitedly, his top hat falling off his head. "You must be the Weasley's, and of course, Mr. Harry Potter. Pleasure to meet you all. Has the meeting started yet?"

"Not yet, Dedalus. You're just in time," A voice said from behind George.

The twins whirled around and looked up at their oldest brother.

"Bill! When did you get here?" Ron exclaimed.

"While you lot were upstairs. Came with Charlie and Percy," Bill replied, fiddling with his fanged earring and nodding to Harry in greeting. "Come on, Dedalus. Charlie and Dumbledore are fixing up the living room."

The twins followed Bill and showed Dedalus Diggle into the living room, as the doorbell rang again. Harry and Ron opened the door and found themselves faced to face with a group of two wizards and two witches. Two of the faces were unknown and two of them were very familiar. Harry stared up, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, into the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Diggory.

"Hello, Harry dear. How are you?" Mrs. Diggory smiled down at him.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Diggory," Harry replied quietly. He avoided her eyes, and stared at the ground instead. For a moment there was an awkward silence—one of those where no one knows what to say or, indeed, has nothing to say at all.

"Has Dumbledore arrived yet? This is the last group from the street," Mr. Diggory softly broke the silence. Harry reluctantly looked up at him. Mr. Diggory looked a lot older than the last time he had seen him. His hair was streaked with gray, he had wrinkles on his face, and—though he tried to hide it—his eyes gleamed with grief and sorrow.

"Yes, Amos. Do come in," Professor Dumbledore appeared behind Ron and gently gestured them all inside. He was smiling, but he looked serious at the same time. Something about the way he gazed at Mr. Diggory made Harry squirm with guilt. Dumbledore's eyes looked tired and sad, though it did not make an imprint on the rest of his face. Harry remembered Professor Dumbledore looking just this way on the night he, Harry, had brought Cedric's body back from the maze. The night that had changed everything for this once happy family.

More to block his memories than anything, Harry turned slightly to look at the witch and wizard he did not recognize.

"'eadmaster, this 'ere is Ralley Veltosa, like you wanted 'er," the unfamiliar wizard said. He was squat, unshaven and wore a tattered overcoat. He had short bandy legs, long straggly ginger hair, bloodshot baggy eyes, and smelled of mingled drink and stale tobacco. [A/N: Exact description, courtesy of JKR.]

"Ahhh, yes. Thank you, Mundungus. This saves me—all of us, really—a great deal of time. I suppose, I am not permitted to ask you where you...er... retrieved her?" Professor Dumbledore asked, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice. He winked, for some reason, at Ron.

Harry looked over to where Ralley Veltosa stood. She was a harsh looking witch, barely older than Sirius. Unlike Sirius, however, she did not have warm eyes or a friendly smile to greet them all. In fact, she reminded Harry of what Sirius had looked like when he had just gotten out of Azkaban—cold and heartless, with dead eyes and the air of one who was not capable of having feelings. Or so Harry had thought about his godfather. But he had been proven wrong about Sirius.

As Harry looked at Ralley, he could not imagine how he could possibly be wrong about her. She had long, black hair, with half of it pulled back into a bun and half of it hanging down over her slender shoulders. She was tall and had an almost abused look about her thin frame. Her skin was so pale that it looked as though she was bathed in moonlight and she looked paler still, dressed in a long, black robe that had flared arms. In fact, everything she wore was pure black, except for the golden and silver bangles that lined down her arms. Her face, however, was the most frightening part of her. Her large, black eyes—which were lined with dark black eyeliner—glittered coldly amongst a thin, white visage and her thin lips—lined with dark lipstick—were pressed together—as if she had never spoken in her life. Altogether, Harry thought she rather resembled a vampire.

"The world needs not know what I do with my time, nor where I spend it, i Albus, /i " Ralley Veltosa spoke in a quiet and icy tone. Something in the way she spoke reminded Harry of Snape, though Snape had never been so rude with the Headmaster.

Everyone in the hall quietly looked at her. Her expression was as cold as the night sky. Harry immediately felt that he did not care for this person one bit and looking around the hall, he could tell that the others felt the same.

"No, indeed, Miss Veltosa. And I assure you, though it may not count for much, that I will not reveal your whereabouts. I suspect Mundungus explained our situation to you?" Dumbledore looked seriously over his spectacles.

Ralley said nothing. She just continued to stare coldly at the Headmaster.

Mundungus looked unnerved. It was apparent that he feared what all of the others would think about him bringing such a person. Just as he was about to say something, the hall filled with several deafening cracks. It sounded as if the hallway had had a small explosion. Harry looked around, heart pounding, expecting to see Voldemort appear before him wand held out, but he was taken by surprise. A small group of witches had materialized in front of him. Surprisingly, he knew all of them for they were his teachers.

"Ahhh, Minerva. So glad you were all able to make it. I trust there were no problems?" Professor Dumbledore looked at the witches, seeming relieved at the interruption.

"No problems at all, Albus. We did arrive in time?" Professor McGonnagal said crisply.

"With time to spare. We're still waiting for a few more people to come," Lupin had come up from behind Harry. The party in the hallway all stared at each other for a few moments.

"A i few /i more people to come? There's already got to be some twenty people, here! How will everyone fit?" Ron goggled at Lupin.

"Why by magic, of course. How did you expect, Mr. Weasley?" Professor Sprout, the squat Herbology teacher, laughed, seeing Ron's astonished face. The adults started laughing, and the momentary tension, which had built up between Ralley and the others broke easily.

While the small party began chattering with each other—waiting for the "few more people" to arrive—Harry stood still, completely at a loss for words. He didn't have a clue what was going on and somehow this made him feel left out. He had seen more than most of them, yet here they all stood...all knew more than he did. Maybe that was what made him feel alone. He had seen so much—gone through so much—in such a short time. Somehow, he didn't feel like he belonged with that loud, happy group.

Why were all these people here? What was Dumbledore planning? Who was this Ralley person? Why was she here? Why were all these people so carefree? Didn't they understand the true danger of Lord Voldemort? Didn't they know what he could do? ...what he'd already done? Harry's head swarmed with questions. He looked from the Diggory's to Ralley to his four professors that had just arrived. Professor Sprout and Madam Hooch were chattering away, while Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore and Madame Pomferey were talking diligently about something or another. No one seemed to notice him. Even Ron seemed to be deep in conversation with Mundungus Fletcher.

"Having fun, are we, Harry?"

Harry started. He whirled around and saw Sirius grinning at him.

"Sirius...you took me by surprise," Harry muttered.

"No one paying much attention?" Sirius asked, leaning against the wall.

Harry stared at the throng of people. He really didn't have to say much.

"I know how you feel, Harry. Somehow, apart from the crowd...not really fitting in," Sirius was watching him closely.

"Sirius...I don't know what's going on. What happened while I was at the Dursley's...what happened i at /i the Dursley's...or what happened this morning, for that matter," Harry spoke slowly, still staring at the crowd of people in front of him.

"Harry...you don't have to feel separated, you know. It's much easier to fit in when you're a kid, even if you've seen things that set you apart. It's much harder when you're an adult and an escaped convict who's suspected of killing thirteen people with one curse. An adult who has been blamed with handing over his best friends to the most evil wizard around. You can always talk to me...don't you think I I /I , at least, know how it feels to be distinctly different?" Sirius, too, was watching the crowd. "As for what's going on...you'll find out soon enough. You know we, or at least i I /i won't leave you in the dark.' He paused a little to look at Harry.

'And what happened this morning...we don't i know /i what happened, Harry. We don't know what you saw. Only you do."

"And this helps me a lot, in feeling like I fit right in," Harry muttered.

"We're trying all we can, to prevent him. You know that."

Harry nodded. He knew. He didn't know what they were trying, but he knew that Dumbledore wouldn't take the news that Voldemort was back, sitting down. Dumbledore was different from Fudge.

"What i did /i you see, Harry?" Sirius inquired.

Harry looked at Sirius. As he stared, his vision from the morning came back to him—the terrible green face...the dead hands advancing toward him...that cold sneer... A feeling of cold dread filled the pit of his stomach. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe...all he could do was stare at that face coming...coming-

Just as the vision was starting to swallow him, Harry felt Sirius's hands on his shoulder steadying him and he snapped back to reality. His scar was burning on his head and he was slightly shaking.

"Harry? Harry, what's the matter?" Sirius looked at Harry in concern, his grip on Harry's shoulder becoming increasingly painful.

"N-Nothing, Sirius. It was nothing," Harry mumbled uneasily. I Sirius will know something was wrong—he isn't stupid—but right now I don't care. Right now, I can't go through that vision for anyone. Especially not Dumbledore...it was his face that had turned into Voldemort's. /I Harry's thoughts ran around in his head, colliding one into the other.

Sirius looked as if he were about to press Harry on when, fortunately, another cracking blast echoed the hall.

"Ron, take Harry up to the room where you all are staying. He needs to rest. We'll call you down when the meeting is to proceed," Lupin quickly ordered, as Professor Flitwick, Professor Sinistra, and a couple of other witches and wizards materialized in front of them. From the concerned look on his face, it seemed that he had been paying close attention to Harry and Sirius.

Ron, who had broken away from Mundungus, and was walking towards the three of them, looked surprised to see Lupin's grave face.

"A-Alright, Professor."

As he and Harry were both leaving the entrance hall, they heard Sirius call to them.

"Oh, and answer the door next time. I think you'll like our last visitor from the streets."

Harry and Ron exchanged questioning looks.

"I thought Mr. Diggory said that they were the last group from the streets."

Ron shrugged.

"Dunno. But anymore people come here, and the house'll fall right over."

Harry snorted as they entered the room. His scar's pain had dimmed down and his cold dread had slowly ebbed away, as he began to talk to Ron. He crossed the floor to the window and looked outside. The sun was setting in the distance and the sky was a creamy peach. The light was slowly dimming.

"It's starting to get a bit dark. Wonder who's coming by the streets."

Ron crossed over the room, as well.

"Dunno, mate. Maybe some muggle loving nut, like my dad. You reckon they're coming by car?"

Harry shrugged and continued staring out the window.

"Hey, Harry. Here's all your stuff. They weren't here before," Ron gestured to Harry's trunk lying next to the bunk bed and Hedwig's empty cage on top of the wardrobe.

"How'd they get all this stuff here? We weren't down in the hall I that /I long," Harry looked puzzled.

Ron came up to Harry's trunk. He was about to comment on something, when the doorbell rang again.

"Harry, Ron! Get that will you?" The two boys heard Mrs. Weasley calling to them from the living room downstairs.

They sighed and went down the stairs to the door again. This time when they opened it, though, they were shocked.

"Harry! Ron! I'm so glad to see you!" Hermione shrieked, as she dropped her trunk and flung herself at them. She pulled them both together and gave them a hug that even Mrs. Weasley would have been proud of.

"Ouch! Gerroff..Gerroff 'ermione!" Ron struggled for breath as his head banged clumsily into Harry's. "Ouch! Sorry, 'arry!"

As Hermione backed off and beamed at the pair of them, a ginger cat with a squashed face and a bottle tail swished past Harry's legs.

"Oh, it's so good to see you both! I bet you weren't expecting me! Those are my parents down there! They drove me all the way here, because they received a letter from—well never mind here! Let's get inside, and I'll tell you!" Hermione turned around and waved goodbye to her parents. Harry and Ron, still dazed from her sudden appearance and bone-crushing hug, helped her heave her trunk inside.

As they all hauled her trunk into the already cramped hall, Hermione explained to them what she had done over the summer and how she came to be there.

"...and Professor Dumbledore sent my parents an owl, explaining to them how he was going to have these meetings, and how it was necessary that I come, because I was so close to you both and-"

Suddenly an earsplitting crack resounded beside them. Hermione shrieked loudly as the two Weasley twins appeared beside her, Harry, and Ron.

"FRED! GEORGE! WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT APPARATING AND DISAPPARATING INSIDE?" Mrs. Weasley came shouting into the hall, upon hearing Hermione's shriek.

"Ah, but mum! We've passed our apparating tests! What's the good in passing it, if we're not allowed to do it?" Fred protested.

"And besides, there're loads of people that just came apparating here!" George added.

"Passing your apparating tests means nothing! This is a small household, crammed to the brink with people, as you very well know! You might hurt _others_, if not yourselves!" Mrs. Weasley argued back. "Besides, we haven't had a chance to set up any sound barriers yet! The people apparating here are doing so, so as not to alarm muggles by coming on the street! They will get suspicious by our large numbers coming to this small house! And as you both are _already _here, there's no need for you to do any apparating!"

Fred and George opened their mouths to argue, but Mrs. Weasley gave them such a dirty look that they knew it would be useless.

"There now. Much better," Mrs. Weasley glowed at the two of them while they scowled openly. She turned to Hermione. "Hello, Hermione, dear! Have you had a good summer? Yes? We're glad you could make it! Now, it's going to be a bit crowded, but we'll manage well enough. You'll have to stay with-"

Before Mrs. Weasley could finish her sentence, the doorbell rang again, causing all of them to jump in surprise.

"Who on earth is that? There shouldn't be any more people coming by street," Mrs. Weasley looked bewildered. "If it's a muggle...or someone that shouldn't be here..."

She tensed up, then turned to the Weasley twins.

"Fred, George, go tell everyone in the living room to be dead quiet. This is an emergency. If this is a Deatheater or a muggle... we I cannot /I be discovered! Go tell them to be dead quiet...and no movements out of them. Hurry!" Mrs. Weasley urgently said, as the doorbell rang again.

As the twins rushed off, she turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. As the doorbell began ringing in earnest, her voice became full of panic.

"We have no time to hide you three! Quick, get behind the door, and _make no noise_." Mrs. Weasley pushed Harry, Ron, and Hermione forcefully behind the door.

As the three hid behind the door with bated breaths, Mrs. Weasley slowly opened it.

She shrieked.

... ...

After an hour's worth of yelling, arguing, wailing—and laughing from the twins—Harry, Ron, and Hermione were settled on the bunk bed in Harry and Ron's room.

"Who would've thought?" Ron chortled.

"Ron! That was really serious of her. Your mum was really frightened!" Hermione chided him.

"I just can't believe she had it in her to do that. I would've burst out laughing if Mrs. Weasley hadn't started shrieking so loudly," Harry grinned.

"Cheers!" Ron laughed.

The door slowly crept open, and a teenage girl with a mane of flaming red hair sheepishly poked her head in.

"Can I come in? Mum's a bit mad, Dad's a bit shocked, the Professors' are a bit amused, and Fred and George are in hysterics. It's the closest thing to chaos and having lived all my life with Fred and George, that's saying something."

"Sure," Harry grinned. "You can tell us what possessed you to do something that would get you labeled as a troublemaker for the rest of your life, Ginny."

Ginny closed the door behind her and came sat down next to Hermione on the bed.

"Oh, come on. Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean that I can't cause as much trouble as Fred and George," Ginny waved the jest away airily.

"We know. You proved just that, didn't you?" Ron snorted.

"Ginny, that was really very serious of you, you know? Scaring your mum half to death like that. She'll be furious, won't she?" Hermione looked reprovingly at her.

"That's one way to put it," Ginny smirked. She saw the look on Hermione's face and waved her hands impatiently. "Oh, come on, Hermione. You sound just like her. I did nothing wrong except alarm her. ("And the rest of us", Hermione muttered.) Besides, she shouldn't have sent me away like that. I'm only a year younger than you all. I shouldn't be excluded!" She stared out the window grumpily.

"Yes, yes, we know. Now tell us what they were yelling about!" Ron ushered her.

"You couldn't hear her? Goodness, I would've thought that Harry's aunt and uncle could hear her from here," Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"Nah, we couldn't hear a thing. Just a bunch of muffled shouting. Someone must've put up that sound barrier your mum was talking about," Harry told her.

"Yeah, probably when they realized that mum was about to blow."

Ron, Harry, and even Hermione snorted.

"So...?" Ron waved on, impatiently.

"Oh, yes. Well mum was against me staying, of course. In fact, she was going to send you all back with me...but she isn't of course!" Ginny hastily added, seeing Ron's furious stare. "Anyway, I told her that I was only a year younger than you all and that I I had /I been possessed by You-Know-Who in my second year, so I wasn't afraid, that she had always treated me like a baby because I was the youngest and a girl, and that I should be able to stay here too."

"Of course, mum said no at once, and even dad was about to agree with her. Then Professor Dumbledore interrupted them, saving me I might add. Mum was about to tear my head off. Professor Dumbledore said that he quite agreed with me. I may be young, but I was certainly old enough to hear whatever they would tell us in the meetings that we would attend."

"Th-that we would attend? That makes it sound as though we won't be able to go to all the meetings," Harry looked surprised.

"Or that they'll dim down whatever they say in front of us, and will have separate meetings without us," Hermione added quietly.

"Yes, it does. I was about to point that out, but Dad shot me a furious look. And as I was in enough trouble to get on with, I decided I would have to be satisfied," Ginny continued. "Anyway, mum sent a Howler to my friend's mum saying that she was furious at her for bringing me here. In the end, Professor McGonagall said that I was quite mature for my age, was excellent at magic in general, and shouldn't be allowed to miss out, as I had already gone through so much trouble to come here.'

'She kind of took me by surprise. She was smiling and looked as though she were trying very hard not to laugh. Not at all acting like herself," Ginny added thoughtfully.

"So you're staying?" Ron asked. Ginny nodded. "Great! So we won't be the only ones to get in trouble for trying to spy in on the meetings we aren't allowed to attend."

"How much trouble are you in?" Hermione asked sternly, ignoring Ron's comment.

"Oh, not much. I'm grounded for the rest of this summer, all of next summer, and I have dish duty for the rest of our time here and over Christmas break," Ginny said airily. "Though it doesn't really matter, if I finally get to be filled in on what's going on."

Harry laughed with Ron, and even Hermione looked like she was struggling not to giggle. Harry felt happier than he had in a long time. His vision from the morning seemed dim and unimportant now. He was with his friends, godfather, and professors. He was in no danger, and was finally going to learn what was going on.

Harry looked out the window. Darkness had fallen outside. The houselights in Little Whinging twinkled outside of Mrs. Figg's guest room. As the silence settled heavily over them all, the room door banged open.

"That was absolutely marvelous, Ginny!" Fred marched over to the bed and threw himself down next to Harry.

"Fred and I couldn't have possibly done it better ourselves!" George came in jovially. "We always knew you were our favorite sister!"

"I'm your I only /I sister," Ginny pointed out.

"Oh, details, details, details. Don't bother with such things," Fred waved it away, carelessly. "Anyway, the reason we came up. Most of the professors are gone. Seems as if they've had their meeting with Professor Dumbledore while we were all wandering around. But a handful of wizards and witches are still here. They're about to start I our /I meeting. So Lupin has asked you all to come along."

"W-what?" Harry stammered. The professors were gone? A meeting just for them?

"Yeah. Don't we feel so privileged? I mean, taking time out of their _busy_ schedules to fake a meeting just so we think that we know what's going on," George added bitterly. "They think we're all kids no matter what they say. Of course, they didn't tell us that this was 'our meeting'. Even had to figure that out for ourselves. They don't think we know anything about it."

"We don't," Fred snorted.

"FRED! GEORGE! STOP DAWDLING AND COME DOWN HERE!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked.

"Oh yes. Ginny, don't say much to mum. She's in a horribly foul mood. Protested to her end to not tell you anything, or any of us for that matter. Couldn't overturn Dumbledore's decision, though," Fred said cheerfully.

"Er...yes, we should probably get downstairs. If we take more time, our heads will probably be hanging on plaques, come tomorrow morning," George added in amusement.

The group headed downstairs to the living room. As Harry stepped into it, he gasped audibly.

The living room had stretched itself from its usual cramped and crowded size to the size of the Gryffindor common room. The cracked, stained walls were now a dazzling, stainless, white, and the cracks had entirely vanished. They looked completely new. Torches lined the walls, so the room glowed. Black and white chairs and couches filled the corners and walls, and all of the windows had somehow disappeared. The walls were plastered with old daily prophet newsletters, plaques, and photos of moving witches and wizards. In one corner, a huge group portrait was hung on the wall. It was stuck up on a handsome mahogany backboard, and in gold, beneath the picture, the words "The Order of the Phoenix" were engraved.

"Ahh, there you all are. I thought that maybe Fred and George may have...er... I accidentally /i tortured you, while delivering our message," Lupin smiled warmly at the twins.

"Now, Professor. You _know _that George and I would never do something like that!" Fred said in a mock shocked tone.

"Yes, Professor! Are you suggesting that Fred and I are hooligans of some sort? Going out of our way to make trouble for others?" George added, looking frankly appalled.

"Oh, my goodness no. I would never suspect I you two /I of doing anything so horrendous. I was merely contemplating the delay, after all," Lupin grinned.

As the group laughed, Mundungus Fletcher came over to talk to the twins, leaving Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny to wander freely, as the adults had not yet called the meeting to order.

"There still seem to be enough people here," Hermione observed.

"Yeah, and they seem to be people that we all know. Bit odd, really," Ron added.

Harry agreed with him. He was sure that in a meeting such as this, with so many people arriving, he would know barely anyone. But as he looked around, most of the faces seemed familiar. The Diggory's were sitting on a couch talking to Mr. Weasley, Professor Flitwick was standing next to Professor Sinistra and having an animated conversation, Percy and Bill Weasley were arguing about something with their brother, Charlie, and Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore were standing in the corner speaking rapidly. Harry looked around some more. Sirius and Arabella were doing something to entertain Lupin, who had just rejoined their company, and a wizard that Harry recognized as Mad-Eye Moody.

"So that's the real him, then?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yes. I think we'll get to meet him later on," Hermione answered nervously.

Harry watched this Mad-Eye...the real one. He looked and acted exactly as Barty Crouch Jr. had last year. As Harry watched him, a dreaded knot formed in his stomach. He had been made an absolute fool of...and here was the man who had done it. ...or the real man, who hadn't, really. Harry grew uneasy as he noticed Moody's magical eye glancing his way.

"This is too weird," he muttered, turning around.

As he did, he noticed Ralley Veltosa standing in the only dark corner in that brightly lit room. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and staring around the room. She did not appear to be enjoying this happy, bright company. As she turned to look at him, Harry turned away.

"She gives me the creeps," Ginny muttered.

"Well you should have thought of that before you decided to come here," Mrs. Weasley's snappish response came from over her shoulder.

"Mum," groaned Ginny.

"Don't take that tone with me, young lady! I don't know where I went wrong with you! Here you are, my only daughter, and you act just like I them /I ," Mrs. Weasley angrily said, jerking her head towards the twins, who had stopped talking to Mundungus long enough to eavesdrop.

As the twins started to protest, Ron grabbed Harry and Hermione's hands and dragged them away from his family.

" I Honestly! /I As if they don't all fight enough at home. Come on, I don't want to hear them arguing," Ron said, casting his bickering family a dirty look.

"Hey you guys," Harry suddenly said.

"What?" Hermione and Ron both turned to look at him. He beckoned them to come closer.

"Where's Snape and Hagrid?" he muttered quietly.

Ron and Hermione suddenly straightened and scanned the room.

"You're right! They're not here! Where could they have gone to?" Hermione whispered.

"Y-you don't reckon Dumbledore's sent them...you know...off on their missions, do you?" Ron looked nervously at Dumbledore.

"Where else could they be?" Harry mumbled back.

Ron was about to say something, when Hermione suddenly stopped him.

"What?"

"That lady, Ralley, right? She's been staring at us for the past five minutes," Hermione whispered apprehensively. "I don't think she's blinked in that whole time."

"She looks like a vampire," Ron shuddered.

"What's she doing here?" Harry asked.

Hermione and Ron both shrugged, but something about the way Ron did it caught Harry's eye. As he looked at Ron closer, Harry saw that he looked a bit guilty. Hermione noticed this as well.

"Ron?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What?" Ron replied, in a completely unconvincing tone.

"What do you know about Ralley?"

"I-I don't know anything," he answered hesitantly.

"Ron, I saw that wink Dumbledore gave to you, you're hesitating, and your ears are turning red. Spill it," Harry said, amused at the look on Ron's face.

"W-well...I'm not really supposed to...Dad told me a long time...and he told me that I-" Ron mumbled nervously.

"Oh Ron! Give it a rest! You're going to end up telling us sooner or later, so just do it," Hermione said exasperatedly.

Ron looked uneasy, and was ready to give in when Professor Dumbledore strolled to the center of the room. Casting a triumphant look at Harry and Hermione, Ron led them all over to a couch where they sat down and waited for Dumbledore to start talking.

"Shouldn't there be a few more people?" Hermione asked, looking around.

"Nah, this is just the kiddies meeting, remember?" Fred replied, plopping down in the couch next to theirs.

"Well it looks like he's going to make it an important kiddies meeting," Ginny said grumpily, sitting down next to Hermione. She looked as though Mrs. Weasley had given her quite a telling off.

"Well we all know he has the power to do that. He is Dumbledore after all," George joined in.

"Hush! He's ready!" Hermione looked toward the center of the room.

Harry looked there as well. Every eye in the room was on Dumbledore. The room fell dead silent, and the atmosphere quickly became very serious.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. He looked around seriously at all of them. He caught Harry's eyes, and stared into them for a few seconds. Harry could feel Dumbledore looking into him. He stared back, waiting for it all to begin. And it did.

"Now that everyone is here, we can begin this meeting, at last. This meeting... that will bring us all together and form an alliance among us. A one last alliance...of friends."

... ...


End file.
